


You're Still Here

by Joolzmp7



Series: You're Still Here [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Male Slash, Masturbation, Minor Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Romance, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:47:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2761880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joolzmp7/pseuds/Joolzmp7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock are on a case during which John gets shot and Sherlock has to deal with the feelings this brings up.  When they're home again Sherlock looks after John in the ways he knows John loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Still Here

You’re Still Here

By Joolz

 

The man stood in front of Sherlock and John, looking down at the pair of them sat next to each other on a moth-eaten old sofa with their wrists tied behind their backs and their ankles also tied together.

“How disappointing, Mr Holmes,” he sneered. “I’d always heard you were hard to beat. All it took was the lure of a mystery and a threat to your lackey here and you walked straight in to my trap.”

“Who are you calling a lackey? It is quite obvious that you yourself are merely an underling, trying to gain a foothold and impress your boss. I’m sorry to tell you that your efforts will be in vain. The man obviously holds no respect for you and would never elevate your status within his organisation. If you don’t believe me you need only look in the eyes of your associate with the gun over there. He can barely contain his disdain for you and is here to monitor your activities rather than to blindly follow your orders as you assume.”

The man turned to look at his associate who just stared back blandly, shrugging his shoulders slightly and continuing to hold the gun pointed at John and Sherlock.

“Stop trying to distract me. You’re just trying to take my attention away from yourselves; you know nothing about my situation at all.”

“You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

John tensed his leg muscles, drawing Sherlock’s eyes to him and he tried to convey by the lowering of his eyebrows that Sherlock should stop baiting their captor. Sherlock, as usual, decided to ignore him. Even tied up on a sofa he couldn’t stop the flow of deductions pouring from him.

“What do you possibly think you could know about me?” The man seemed almost nervously curious now, obviously shaken up by Sherlock’s first revelation.

“What indeed. You don’t think I can tell that that you are an only child who had an absentee father and an overbearing mother and that just to escape her you married a woman you don’t love and only stay with just so you can hide your interest in young men.”

John raised his eyes to the ceiling and sighed heavily as the man paled in front of them and staggered backwards. “You lie. That’s a lie. Take that back.” He hit the wall behind him and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment followed swiftly by fierce anger. He ran over to his associate in the corner and grabbed the gun off him and aimed it straight at Sherlock and without even a pause he pulled the trigger.

Several things seemed to happen all at once. Sherlock seemed almost surprised as he felt John flop over and lay still in his lap. At the same moment the door burst open and several black garbed commandos charged into the room, saw the man with the gun and swiftly disarmed him, took him and his associate down to the ground where they were quickly tied up and removed from the room. Greg Lestrade followed in on their heels and ran over to the sofa where Sherlock was looking shocked and shouting John’s name but was unable to turn him over with his hands tied behind his back.

“Sherlock, are you ok?” Greg bent down to catch Sherlock’s attention.

“John…,” was all Sherlock could manage.

Greg reached down in front of him and rolled John’s limp body over to rest against Sherlock’s chest. Sherlock let out a strangled gasp as he and Greg both saw the blood spreading over John’s jumper. 

“Get the paramedics in here, now!” Greg shouted as he put his hand on John’s neck to take his pulse. “He’s alive, Sherlock. Sherlock! Can you hear me? John is alive.”

Greg pulled John down on to the floor and pressed his hands over the wound on his shoulder to stop the bleeding. Sherlock fell to his knees in front of him, bending low over John, trying to get him to talk to him.

“John. Why did you do that? John, don’t leave me. John. John.”

The paramedics arrived at that moment and Greg quickly moved aside for them to get to work. He got out his penknife and cut the zip ties around John’s wrists and ankles and then did the same with Sherlock, catching him as he almost fell on top of John, his hand shooting out to grasp on to John’s arm.

“Let them work, Sherlock. He’ll be okay. Come on.”

Greg had to physically lift Sherlock away as the paramedics cut up the front of John’s jumper and shirt to expose the wound. It was his shoulder; the same one he had been shot in before. They applied dressings to stop the blood flow and then lifted John on to their trolley and set up a drip to start replacing his lost fluids. They wheeled the trolley out and fastened John in to the ambulance. Sherlock tried to get in too but Greg didn’t know quite what he’d do in this state so he pulled him back and steered him towards his police car.

“We’ll follow right behind them. Let them stabilise John and we’ll see him when we get there. I can put the sirens on, we won’t lose them, don’t worry.”

It said something for the state of Sherlock’s mind that he didn’t even argue about getting in the police car. As the ambulance set off Greg was right on their tail and followed them all the way to the hospital. Greg used his police privilege and parked next to the loading bay and he and Sherlock were straight out and following the trolley into the major trauma room. Greg pulled Sherlock out of the way and they stood in a corner, Greg holding on to Sherlock’s arm to stop him from going over to John, knowing that they would be removed from the room if they got in the way.

The medical team worked quickly, pushing more blood through to try and keep John’s haemoglobin levels stable and preparing him for surgery. They wheeled him straight through the doors into theatre and closed them on Sherlock as he tried once more to follow. Sherlock looked devastated at seeing John leave so Greg took him through to the waiting area outside surgery and sat him down before he collapsed.

“J…John…”, Sherlock’s head drooped.

“He’ll be ok, Sherlock. He’s John Watson, he wouldn’t let some stupid criminal take him down. He’s a fighter. You know he’ll make it.”

“He… he just looked so small, lying there on that bed, covered in blood from a bullet he took for me. Me! Why would he do that? That should be me in there, not John.”

“You know why he did it, Sherlock. He would do anything for you, he loves you. You’ve been together long enough. Are you trying to convince me you wouldn’t have done exactly the same thing for him because I won’t believe you?”

“Of course, I would. So he should have just let me take it. He should never be in this position again. He does so much for me already.”

“I’m sure he’d say he wouldn’t have wanted you in that position either. That’s why he did what he did. It goes both ways, Sherlock. That’s how love works; not wanting to see your partner hurt.”

“But I already have so much to make up for. He’s good and kind and generous and does anything for me and what do I do – nothing, that’s what! I’m just the stupid arse who is grumpy and miserable and sulky and drags him around everywhere and keeps him up all night. This was something I could have done for him. Should have done for him.”

“Don’t think like that, Sherlock. You both take risks every day and you know John willingly jumps in head first just as you do yourself. You wouldn’t be able to stop him and he wouldn’t want you to. This life you both live is what makes you happy.”

“But he sees me…, I mean really sees me. Sees me for what I am, what I do, what I’m like. All the darkness inside me, everything… and he’s still here, he stays with me in spite of all that. How can he do that? How can anyone do that? I’m not a nice person. I don’t deserve him and now I’m going to lose him.”

“You’re not going to lose him, Sherlock. He’s strong, he’ll pull through. You know, when John first moved in with you I said to him that you were a great man and one day with any luck you’d be a good one. Well you are, Sherlock. You are a good man and John knows that.”

“It’s all him. Anything that’s good about me is all John. How can I live without that; without him? Why did he save me? He should have just let me be shot; let me die. Not John; never John.”

“I told you, Sherlock. He’s not going to die. They’ll be out soon to tell us that’s he’s made it through and you’ll be able to go and see him."

"I need to be in there. I need to see him now." Sherlock leapt up and began pacing the waiting room.

"You know you can't go in there, Sherlock. They'll be out soon."

"Mycroft! Mycroft could get me in there. I need him here, he's the British Government. He can make them let me see John."

"Calm down, Sherlock. The theatre is sterile, they won't let you in, you know that. You wouldn't want to put John at risk from contamination, would you; that would defeat the whole purpose of them saving his life."

Sherlock deflated as he thought of what it could do to John and he sank back down on to the chair his head in his hands, eyes closed. They sat quietly, Greg keeping his eye on Sherlock to make sure he was okay.

~*~

Eventually they heard footsteps coming down the corridor towards them and Sherlock shot to his feet and ran over to the doctor. Before Greg even had a chance to ask how it had gone, Sherlock turned to him with a sigh and without a hint of hesitation.

"He's alive, John's alive."

The doctor looked surprised at Sherlock's certainty. "Yes that's right. Are you relatives?"

Greg flashed his badge and pointed at Sherlock. "This is Dr Watson's partner and I'm the detective in charge of the investigation."

"The surgery went as well as can be expected in the circumstances. The patient had a previous wound in the same site so we had a lot of scar tissue to contend with but we managed to safely extract the bullet and luckily there was no major damage to the heart or main arteries. He's lost a lot of blood so we've got him on a drip to replenish that and we're going to keep him sedated for twenty four hours to give his body time to stabilise before we try to revive him. He's just being moved into Intensive Care now and he'll be monitored constantly from there so there really isn't much point either of you staying until we're ready to wake him up."

"Thank you, Dr Maddocks." A new voice cut in. "We appreciate everything you have done for Dr Watson. He is being moved now to his own private room with a specialist nurse to monitor him under Dr Hargreaves’ personal orders so I will escort these gentlemen to see him and allow you to return to your work."

The surgeon looked shocked at having the name of the head of the hospital waved in his face and the way this unknown man had just taken over the conversation. Greg approached him and shook his hand, giving him a rueful smile.

"Thank you for everything, Doctor, we really appreciate everything you did."

"Um, you're welcome," he said as he left, shaking his head in bewilderment.

"Where is he, Mycroft? Let me see him now."

"It's a pleasure to see you too, Sherlock."

Mycroft could see that Sherlock was in no fit state for their usual bickering so he turned round and led the way through the hospital to the private wing and showed them in to John's room. There was a nurse sitting behind a viewing screen giving them a modicum of privacy but allowing her full access to all the monitors and the patient as necessary.

Sherlock's first view of John was of a small, pale-faced man lying in a stark white bed with tubes and wires flowing everywhere and surrounded by beeping machines. He made a funny noise in his throat and wavered where he stood. Greg moved forward quickly in case he fell and led him towards the chair next to the bed.

"The doctor said he was going to be okay, Sherlock. All the equipment is just to monitor him. You can be checking it whilst he's sedated to make sure that everything is okay because I don't imagine we're going to get you to leave the room at any point 'til John wakes up, are we."

Sherlock didn't reply, he just carefully took hold of John's hand around the tubes and sat with his eyes fixed on John's face with an occasional flicker at the monitors in front of him to make sure nothing changed.

Greg stepped over to Mycroft who was still standing near the entrance. He nodded his head to the door and they both went outside, quietly shutting the door behind them, not that Sherlock noticed them leaving anyway.

"Is he all right, Mycroft? I've never seen him go to pieces quite like this before."

"I don't think he's ever been confronted by John's mortality quite so blatantly before, certainly not since they've been a couple. They've both had minor injuries and even been in hospital but miraculously, considering their lifestyles, neither of them has been faced with the other's death in quite this way."

"Well, he's certainly just faced up to it down in the waiting room. Poor guy, he seemed quite overwhelmed."

"Yes, Sherlock has never dealt well with emotions, so much so that a lot of people think he doesn't have them; when the truth is he has so many he doesn't know what to do with them. He buries them down deep and does his best to ignore them until he's faced with a situation such as this and then they bubble up unrelentingly and he doesn't know what to do with himself."

"I wouldn't like to see what happens if John doesn't make it. He is going to pull through isn't he, Mycroft?"

"The indomitable spirit of John Watson would allow nothing less, Detective Inspector." Mycroft smiled down at Greg, easing his mind slightly.

"It's Greg, Mycroft, you can't pretend you don't know that and I've been playing free and loose with your own name since you got here."

"Indeed. Thank you, Gregory. I could see you were trying to hold Sherlock together and doing an admirable job if I may say so. I was surprised not to find him trying to get into the theatre himself to see John."

"Well he was certainly going to try at one point until I pointed out it would be hazardous to John's health. He was even going to speak to you to get you to allow him access and I know that would usually be the last thing he would do according to what John has said in the past so that should tell you everything about his state of mind, right there."

"That is most certainly true. The sooner John wakes up the better for all concerned, I would imagine. I don't imagine the nursing team are going to have an easy night of it, nor we ourselves come to that. Are you staying, Gregory, or are you going to come back when they're ready to wake John up."

"I think Sherlock could probably use the support now if it's allowable for me to stay."

"By all means, of course. I'm sure Sherlock would appreciate it. I'd stay myself but I think that is far more likely to aggravate than appease the situation which is the last thing he needs right now."

"You really do care what's best for him, don't you, Mycroft."

"Always. Though Sherlock certainly doesn't see it like that. Thank you for everything you've done, Gregory. It makes me feel so much better to know Sherlock has someone with him." Mycroft smiled warmly at Greg and shook his hand and if he held on to it for a few moments longer than was absolutely necessary then who was to say anything about it. He had always had a strong respect for the silver-haired detective in his ways of coping and dealing with Sherlock and, in places he didn't look in to too deeply, he had to admit there was also something of a fondness there too.

"It's quite all right, Mycroft. I'm happy to be here for him and for you, of course." Greg put his other hand over the top of their handshake and squeezed gently, quite enjoying the slight blush that darkened Mycroft's cheeks. "Maybe we could get together when John is better and talk some more."

The blush spread further over Mycroft's face and he smiled shyly at Greg. "That would be lovely, Gregory, thank you." He dropped Greg's hand somewhat reluctantly and gave a slight nod of his head as he turned and made his way out, his step a touch lighter than before as he pondered his diary for the upcoming week and wondered where he could free up some space if and when Greg did get in touch with him.

Greg grinned as he watched Mycroft leaving. He had always been impressed with him when they had had to have meetings regarding Sherlock's latest misadventures and thought him rather dashing with his three piece suits and elegant manner. The way Mycroft had blushed left him hopeful that maybe there was some interest from his side too and he tasked himself with remembering to make sure he contacted Mycroft when John was well on the road to recovery again.

Thinking of John he pushed open the door and went back in to the room to see that Sherlock hadn't moved and was still sitting vigilantly watching John and the machines. Greg pulled up another chair and sat nearby, knowing they were in for a long wait.

~*~

Sherlock barely moved the whole time. He only relinquished his hold on John’s hand when the nurse needed to check the drip and he took it up again as soon as she left. He meticulously checked everything she did and monitored any change it made to John. He noted that John’s heart rate elevated slightly every time Sherlock took his hand again but hopeful as he was that John could somehow tell it was him, it could just have been him settling down again after the nurse had finished her manipulations.

Greg currently dozed in the chair next to him. He had tried to get Sherlock to leave a couple of times to get something to eat but he wasn’t leaving John’s side ‘til he saw him open his eyes and recognise who he was so Greg had gone himself and brought back vending machine coffee each time which Sherlock had mostly forgotten about until it was cold. Sherlock felt a bit embarrassed that Greg had witnessed him almost falling apart when John had been shot but Greg knew Sherlock well enough not to mention it again or treat Sherlock any differently so Sherlock let it go and concentrated all his attention on somehow willing John to wake up and be okay.

When Greg left the room Sherlock bent down to John and placed his hand lightly over his heart, making sure not to apply any pressure as it was very close to the bullet wound and whispered in his ear.

"John. I know you can hear me, John. You have to come back to me. I can't do this without you. I can feel your heart beating, I can see it and hear it from these machines and somehow it matches my own, it always has. Those four chambers contain my life blood as well as your own. Moriarty was right, John, you are my heart and it would burn the heart out of me if anything happened to you." Sherlock frowned at himself. "Do you hear what I've been reduced to, John. I'm spouting ridiculous comments about hearts. You need to come back right now and stop this, stop me before I make even more asinine aspersions and spurious similes. Oh God, now I'm rhyming too. John - save me."

Sherlock sat back and shook his head at what he'd been reduced to just as Greg came back in, but he was almost sure he caught a twitch of John's lip at his last comment. It gave him just a small fleck of hope as he continued his vigil.

~*~

Finally the next morning the doctor eventually came back. It hadn't been the full 24 hours but Sherlock had driven nearly everyone crazy with his constant demands on John's behalf.

"Well, Mr Holmes, it seems that all the readings are remaining stable and Dr Watson has shown excellent signs of recovery so I think it's time to remove the sedation and bring him back to us."

"Well, about time. He has been showing good signs for hours now and..."

"Sherlock."

Sherlock scowled at Greg for a moment then turned back to the doctor and pasted on his most ingratiating smile, showing all his teeth. "I meant, thank you, Doctor."

The doctor looked a bit worried at that smile but took Sherlock at his word and reached over to switch off the sedation which had been flowing into John's veins along with the other fluids keeping him hydrated and replenishing his blood.

"It shouldn't take too long for him to come round. His vitals are all very strong so I don't anticipate any problems, but obviously until he's actually conscious we'll just have to wait and see."

"Stunning observation", Sherlock muttered under his breath. He could see Greg frowning slightly at him so he kept quiet and just sat watching John for any sign of movement.

The first thing was a twitch in John's index finger which was next to Sherlock's hand on the bed. Sherlock sat up quickly and leaned forward.

"John. John, can you hear me. You need to wake up now."

John's eyes moved under his closed lids but it was as if he didn't quite have the strength to open them yet. His mouth opened and closed a few times.

"Sh'lock."

"Yes, John. I'm here."

"Hurt."

"I know. It's going to hurt, John, you were shot."

John's brow furrowed as if that wasn't what he wanted to hear. "Sh'lock hurt."

"He's asking if you were hurt, Sherlock." Greg leant towards John and in a clear, authoritative voice, Greg added, "Sherlock is fine, John. You saved him."

The corner of John's mouth moved in his best attempt at a smile in his current state. His fingers twitched on both hands and then his body relaxed completely as he fell into a natural sleep.

"Well, he moved the fingers of his injured arm so it doesn't look as if there's too much of a problem there and he seemed to be aware and remember what had happened so I think we should leave him to sleep naturally and he should be more or less back to normal when he wakes again."

Sherlock was just sitting still, mouth open, staring at John so Greg moved to shake the doctor's hand and thank him for everything. When the doctor left Greg turned to his friend.

"Sherlock, are you ok? John's going to be fine; you heard what the doctor said. He's just sleeping normally now, he'll wake up soon and be back to his normal self."

"Me..."

"What, Sherlock?"

"After he's been through all that, being shot, having major surgery, being in pain and all he wants to know is about me. How... how do I deserve that?"

"Of course you deserve that, Sherlock. He was shot saving you; of course he's going to want to know how you are."

"How can I compete with that?"

"It's not a competition, Sherlock. John doesn't want anything from you. He knows you love him just as he loves you. You would both do anything for each other, that's a very special thing. The thing to do is treasure it and enjoy what you have for as long as you both can. You're both very lucky."

Sherlock opened his mouth, unsure what to say to something so deep but it was all true. It was exactly how he felt about John and he knew he would do anything for him, just as John had done for him. He looked shyly across, blushing slightly.

"Thank you, Lestrade. Greg. I couldn't have... It helped... It was better with you here."

Greg patted his shoulder and beamed at Sherlock. "Don't mention it. That's what friends are for. And hey, you actually remembered my name, I'm honoured."

Sherlock gave a mock scowl to hide his smile. "Of course, I know your name. It's on all the warrant cards I've ever taken from you."

Greg burst out laughing and sat back down to wait for John to wake up naturally. The atmosphere was now much more relaxed and the pair of them were happy to sit and wait - one rather more patiently than the other.

~*~

The second time John woke up, Sherlock was on his own in the room, Greg having popped down to the canteen for some dinner and to bring something back to bully Sherlock into eating too.

Sherlock had pulled the chair as close to the bed as he could get it and had hold of John’s hand again. His head was resting against John’s leg, face turned to be able to look at John’s face, though at this moment he was actually asleep.

John opened his eyes and blinked around the room. As he looked down he saw Sherlock in front of him and he smiled fondly to actually see the man asleep. Much as he knew that Sherlock probably needed the sleep, John also knew that Sherlock would be worried until he saw John properly awake. He rubbed his thumb over the hand holding his own and Sherlock’s eyes popped open instantly as he sat up and scanned John avidly, checking his vital signs and looking for any signs of pain.

“I’m fine, Sherlock. How are you doing?”

“I wish you would stop doing that, John. I’m not the one who was injured.”

“I know that now, Sherlock, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t been suffering. I can tell just by seeing you sitting there. How long have I been out?”

“You were shot at 9.15 am yesterday morning then you were brought here and were in surgery for 3 hours and 12 minutes whilst they removed the bullet, working around the pre-existing scar tissue and replenishing all the blood you had lost. You were kept sedated for 22 hours until the doctor stopped it this morning and after coming round briefly you fell into a natural sleep and have remained so for 9 hours and 40 minutes which brings us back to now.”

“That was very precise, thank you, Sherlock.” John smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

“You’re mocking me, John.”

“Not me, Sherlock. Just happy to have you here to tell me these things. When I think what could have happened…”

“I think we need to talk about that, John. Your reckless behaviour in that situation was…” Sherlock stopped as he felt John squeeze his hand more tightly.

“Don’t even go there, Sherlock. You are the last person to lecture me about reckless behaviour. I did exactly what I should have done and that was to save you.”

“Not if it meant I would lose you, John. If this has taught me anything it is that I couldn’t have coped with that. You mean… John, you are everything to me. I know I don’t say it enough, but I love you. Please don’t do anything like that again. I would be lost without you.”

John raised his hand and Sherlock leant forward to rest his cheek against John’s fingers. “I feel exactly the same way, Sherlock. I love you more than anything, that’s why I did what I did. We’ll just have to agree to be as careful as we can and watch out for ourselves as well as each other.”

“John…”

“No, Sherlock. I know what you’re saying but I won’t stop saving you from yourself just as I’m sure you won’t stop saving me either. That’s the best we can do for each other.”

Sherlock sighed and turned his head to kiss John’s palm. This is what they were and they both knew it.

As Sherlock sat back up Greg came in bearing packs of sandwiches and coffee.

“John. Nice to see you back with us. How are you feeling?”

“Hi Greg. I’m okay all things considered, thanks. Have you been here all this time?”

“Well, someone had to keep His Highness under control or there wouldn’t have been a hospital left standing.”

“Oh, ha ha.” Sherlock added sarcastically but he smiled slightly when he saw how happy John looked. He had come too close to not seeing that happen ever again and would put up with a lot to keep John looking at him like that.

“So, John, anything you want to tell us about secret Superman powers. How did you manage to move faster than a speeding bullet?”

“No such luck unfortunately, though those would be helpful with this one around.” John laughed and rested his hand on Sherlock’s arm which was next to him on the bed. “In this case it was all down to Afghanistan – huh, nice to think of it being of benefit for once. I saw the shock and anger on the guy’s face and recognised it from some of the faces of people I had faced in combat; I somehow just knew what he was going to do as soon as I saw him go for the gun. I didn’t have much leeway with my hands tied, but I just managed to push my fingers against the back of the sofa and lift my body enough to dive in front of Sherlock as the gun went off and that’s all I know.” John took Sherlock’s hand and squeezed tightly as he saw the look on his face. “Hey, I’m okay.”

“But you so easily couldn’t have been, John.”

“I know, but I am so let’s just leave it there shall we. Now, who do I have to kill to get a drink in this place?”

Sherlock jumped up and poured John some water from the jug on his table and held the cup up for him, all while keeping hold of John’s hand. It seemed even Greg’s presence wouldn’t deter Sherlock from holding on to John and John certainly wasn’t going to do anything to stop him. All in all it could have been worse he thought.

~*~

Later that week they were settled back into Baker Street. John had his arm up across his chest held in a sling to keep his shoulder immobile while the skin finished healing as there had been so much damage with old scar tissue as well as new. He would need to have some intensive physiotherapy on it when the stitches were out as well to get any kind of mobility back in it. Sherlock was already threatening to come with him to assist him with all the exercises and John knew this new helpfulness was going to drive him nuts, but he was hard pressed to stop Sherlock, knowing that it was his way of making sure John was okay.

Sherlock was being very attentive and seemed to need to be in almost constant contact with John, either sitting next to him on the sofa with his hand on his thigh or lying next to him in bed, allowing John space but keeping his hand resting lightly on his opposite arm or lower chest as if to make sure that he was still there. John allowed it all, knowing Sherlock needed the reassurance, especially after speaking to Greg and hearing how Sherlock had been affected whilst John was in surgery.

They were sat on the sofa with John leaning with his back in the corner and his feet up in Sherlock’s lap getting a foot massage. Sherlock’s long fingers reached all the right places and when he pressed down in certain places John could feel tingles all through his body. Sherlock noticed the effect he was having on John instantly, of course, and with a quick grin up at John he pressed more firmly into John’s foot, seeing which places affected which parts of the body. He knew the principles behind reflexology but he had never had a live subject on which to test it before.

“Sherlock, I’m not really in a fit state to reciprocate right now if you start that.”

“I don’t want anything back, John. This is all about you, just let me give you this. Please.”

John moaned and his eyes closed as Sherlock touched one spot that went straight to his groin. Sherlock pressed it again and again, trying both gentle and deep pressure to see which worked best. John’s legs fell open a bit wider as he enjoyed the feelings rolling through him. Sherlock kept one hand moving over John’s foot and with the other he stroked his fingers up John’s leg under his pyjamas. He circled his finger at the back of John’s knee, knowing that was a particularly sensitive spot for him.

Seeing John, mouth agape with groans escaping at each touch, set Sherlock off as it always did and he couldn’t resist touching John more intimately. He pulled down the front of John’s pyjamas which luckily were loose enough to move without John having to change position and aggravate his shoulder. John closed his eyes again, anticipating the feel of Sherlock fingers on him when suddenly his eyes snapped open as he was engulfing by heat. Sherlock had bypassed that altogether and gone straight to swallowing John’s shaft in one go, his nose pressed in to the wiry hair surrounding the base. Even with his mouth full, Sherlock managed to take a deep sniff of John’s natural scent, happy that it was now back to normal and rid of all the medicinal undertones that had lingered when he came out of hospital. 

John let out a garbled yell and only just managed to stop himself from jumping in reaction. The fingers of his free hand slid into Sherlock’s hair, stroking through the strands and gripping tightly as he reacted to the movements of Sherlock’s tongue as he started circling the head of John’s cock and then plunging down to the base again, sucking hard as he moved back up, repeating the cycle and quickly driving John almost to distraction.

Sherlock held John’s hips down to make sure he didn’t do anything to jolt his shoulder and then he deep throated John and hummed deeply around him. That extra vibration pushed John over the edge and his release pulsed down Sherlock’s throat. Sherlock licked John clean, tucked him back in and sat up with a big smile on his face as John just lay slumped in front of him, completely relaxed.

“That’s better. You were altogether too tense, John.”

“Well, I wish I’d had your kind of therapy the first time round. I feel better than I have for days.” John grinned at Sherlock then nodded at the huge tenting of material in front of him. “What about you?”

“Oh don’t worry about that, it’ll go down soon. I told you this was all about you.”

“You could always take care of it right now, whilst I watch.”

Sherlock blushed. Amazingly, they realised, this was something they hadn’t actually done before. They were both very tactile and the smallest hint of a bit of bare flesh on the one and the other would be unable to keep their hands to themselves. There had obviously been innumerable occasions of them giving each other hand jobs but neither of them had performed solitary masturbation in front of the other and it was clear from their faces that they both now thought this was a serious oversight.

Sherlock stood up and with his eyes locked on John he slowly stripped off his clothes. He sat back on the sofa at the opposite end to John with one leg bent and pressed into the back of the sofa and the other foot on the floor leaving him spread wide for John to see.

Sherlock slowly traced a line down his body, first circling his nipples with his fingertip then his belly button. When he got lower he traced around the base of his cock, dragged his finger along the length and circled the head where he scooped up the drop of fluid at the tip and sucked his finger deep into his mouth, pulling it out with a pop as he watched John intently throughout. John's mouth had fallen open as he heard that pop and Sherlock added a little moan for good measure as he noted John's eyes flaring in excitement.

He grasped his shaft, pulling it in long, slow strokes from base to tip. On every third up stroke he added in a little twist to the head just the way John did when he did it for him. He cupped his balls with his other hand, rolling and pulling them the way he liked.

Much as he would like to drag this out and tease John some more, Sherlock knew he wasn't going to last long. He had already been hard just from getting John off and now having John's eyes boring into him added a voyeuristic thrill to the proceedings and he could feel his balls pulling up tight as he neared his own release. He sped his hand up, pulling hard on the shaft and rubbing his thumb over the top, spreading the fluid around for a smoother glide. He locked eyes with John again, shouting his name as he came all over his hand and stomach. Sherlock reached over to grab a tissue but John stretched his hand out to stop him and beckoned him closer.

"Mine," he said, and he took hold of Sherlock's hands, slowly sucking each finger clean, pausing between each one to add a word. "That... was... so... hot."

They both looked hot and bothered by it and if they hadn't both just come they would certainly have been on the verge of it again.

"We have to do that again when I'm mobile. I wanted to pounce on you every minute, love."

"It's my turn to watch you next. Just feeling your eyes on me was amazing."

"How do you think I felt then. Honestly, the things you do to me. How did I get so lucky?"

"I'm the lucky one, John, to have you in my life. Thank you for being with me... for everything... for still being here."

"Thank you. I'm not going anywhere, don't worry. My life wouldn't be complete without you in it." John could see that the emotions were getting to Sherlock. He patted his lap. "Come on, you daft sod. Lie down here and get some rest, you've been so busy looking after me and I think we could both use a nap after that."

Sherlock lay down with his head in John's lap and pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa to cover his still naked body. John carded his fingers through Sherlock's hair, loving the feel of the silky strands as the gentle stroking motion relaxed them both and they rested there, content to be together once again.

~*~

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to 'tonotsoboldlygo' and Ali for the beta as always.
> 
> I may do a sequel to this one as I really liked this Greg and Mycroft and think they want to have their own story told so there may be another part at some stage.


End file.
